"My daughter, you need rest," said Ah Ben gently, and at the same
moment a clock upon the stairs began striking eleven.
Dorothy opened her eyes and looked around.
"I must have fallen asleep!" she exclaimed quite naively.
She bade them each "Good night," and then started up the uncanny
stairs. Near the top she paused in the darkness, and looking over the
balustrade into the hall below, seemed to be waiting. Perhaps she was
not so completely in the shadow as she imagined, and perhaps Paul did
not see aright, but through the gloom he thought he caught the flash
of a diamond as it moved toward her lips and away again. If tempted
to return the salute, his better judgment prevailed, and while
holding the stem of his pipe in his right hand, pressed the tobacco
firmly into the bowl with his left. A troublesome thought presented
itself. Could this girl have entered into any kind of entanglement
with his namesake which would have demanded a tenderer attitude than
he had assumed toward her? Had he neglected opportunities and failed
to avail himself of privileges which he had unknowingly inherited?
For an instant the thought disturbed Mr. Henley's equilibrium, but a
moment's reflection convinced him that the idea was not worth
considering. Whatever it was he had seen upon the stairs he knew was
not intended for his eyes, even if it had been meant for himself.
"Shall we smoke another pipe?" said Ah Ben. "I'm something of an owl
myself, and shall sit here for quite a while before retiring."
Paul was glad of the opportunity, and accepted with alacrity. He
hoped in the quiet of a midnight conversation to discover something
about this peculiar man and his home. Perhaps he should also learn
something of the girl, her strange life, and the Guirs.
"We may not be so comfortable as we would be in our beds," continued
the elder man, "but there is a certain comfort in discomfort which
ought not to be undervalued. Sleep, to be enjoyed, should be
discouraged rather than courted."
"Yes," answered Paul, "I believe Shakespeare has told us something
about it in his famous soliloquy on that subject."
"True," replied Ah Ben, "and I suppose there is no one living who has
not felt the delusion of comfort. Like many other material blessings,
it is to be had only in pills."
Ah Ben had stretched his legs out toward the hearth, and while
passing his hand across his withered cheek, had closed his eyes in
reverie. The dim and uncertain shadows made the room seem like some
vast cavern, whose walls were mythical and whose recesses unexplored.
The lamp had expired to a single spark, and there was nothing to
reveal their presence to each other except the red glow from the
embers.